Fears
by LilyBolt
Summary: The brothers always have each others' backs when it comes to their worst fears... A oneshot set first pre-series, with Sam about 8 and Dean 12, then late season 1 or 2, but with no spoilers for any episodes. Not a slash fiction.


**Author's Note: mb64, this one is for you. You wanted me to write a lighthearted story somehow involving Dean's fear of flying. The first half of this one somehow forced itself into the mix, but the second half is your 'prize'. ;)These take place first pre-series when Sam is 8 and Dean is 12, and then early in the series, maybe around season 1 or 2.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. **

Sam was lying in a hospital bed feeling like his throat had been dragged over a cheese grater several dozen times. He had taken the pain medicines the nurse had given him but they weren't doing enough to ease his suffering. Though the doctor had told him he could request more if necessary, he knew better than to do that. His dad wouldn't approve of him acting like a baby about a little scratchy throat, even if it _was_ sore due to having just had his tonsils cut out.

Dean sat nearby, the emblem of vigilance. He hadn't left the room since Sam came out of surgery. The older Winchester seemed to pick up on his brother's discomfort and he inched his chair closer to the edge of the bed and started talking to Sam.

He was doing his best to keep Sam's mind off his throat. Ever conscious of Sam's well-being, Dean made certain not to say anything that would encourage Sam to try and respond. He didn't want his brother to damage his vocal chords after the surgery, so instead of trying to make conversation, he mostly stuck to making up stories.

He told Sam made-up adventures in which two brothers fought side-by-side against all the evil in the world of school cafeterias. He talked about how "the younger brother was smart and determined. He could make a bad-guy do whatever he wanted just with a look." He also described how "The older one was tough. And if anyone hurt his little brother he beat their face in without a second thought. Oh…and he was also the more handsome of the two. Like, by a long shot."

At that Sam rolled his eyes and made a face, but he really did enjoy hearing the story. He knew these two brothers were them, and he liked the way Dean talked about them. As if they would always be able to stand together against anything, even silly stuff like evil cafeteria conspiracies. It made him feel like he had someone he belonged with. And most importantly for his current situation, it made him forget how much his throat hurt.

Just as Sam was doing pretty well and Dean was at a highlight of his story, in which the brothers were about to face off against the wicked lunch-lady who liked depriving children of pie and forcing them to eat old vegetable casserole instead, a true horror entered the room.

A cheerful man of about six-foot tall strolled in from the hallway wearing brightly colored attire. This would have been fine, had he not been dressed specifically as a clown.

Sam stiffened and felt the air go out of the room.

The clown honked his red nose and danced his way towards Sam's bed, all the while grinning what was supposed to be an encouraging smile, but to Sam looked like a wolf sneering before it lunges at its prey. The eight year old boy pushed back against his hospital bed, eyes wide with terror. He clenched his mouth shut, not wanting to make any sound and hurt his throat. The man was just there on behalf of the hospital to try and make him feel better. He wasn't going to hurt him. He wasn't going to…He wasn't...

The logic in Sam's brain fought to overpower his fear, but it was losing out quickly. The man in the clown suit meandered closer, laughing and honking his red nose the whole time.

And just when Sam feared for the worst, Dean was there between the two of them. "Excuse me dude, but my brother isn't in the mood right now. So could you just go see some other kid or something?" Dean asked. His tone was carefully casual but the stance he took was one of pure defense. If this clown-man knew anything about fighting, he would have backed away from the twelve year old who stood before him in a perfect ready position.

The clown-man knew nothing about fighting.

So instead of leaving, he tried to move around Dean, chuckling and saying, "I think this young man should get to decide for himself if he's in the mood for fun, right my boy?" He didn't make it another step before Dean was pushing him back with surprising strength for a kid. "I said he's not in the mood. Now scram!" This time the clown-man looked into Dean's eyes.

And though a fighting man he might not be, a foolish man he wasn't either. There was no mistaking the look on the twelve year old's face. The kid was obviously dead serious about keeping the clown away from his brother, and suddenly the man dressed as a clown felt the urge to spend his time someplace more productive. Like in a different child's room. Preferably one where the child inside didn't look ready to dismember him at the drop of a pin. And so he hastily made his retreat.

As soon as the clown was gone, Sam watched Dean turn around towards where he was now beginning to relax again in the bed. "Don't worry Sam. I promise I'm not letting any clowns get you while you can't even scream like a girl about it." Sam rolled his eyes again and frowned to show he was offended, but then he allowed his features to soften. He smiled a little at Dean, hoping his eyes could convey his gratitude for Dean's protection. Dean nodded and smiled back.

"Now where were we? Oh, right! So the older brother was following through on his genius plan to trick the lunch lady by locking her up in the ice box…" Sam listened intently as the older brother protected the younger one from becoming the next helping of 'Tuesday's Mystery Meal' by trapping the lunch-lady in her own freezer.

Yeah, Sam knew the brothers from the story alright. And the older one was definitely his favorite character because Sam knew he would always save the younger from his fears.

* * *

They were sitting in a local bar winding down from a job well done. Rick, the hunter they had ended up working with during their most recent salt-and-burn was chatting with Dean about how he needed to fly up to his cabin in Alaska sometime. "Real wilderness… Real huntin' too. We get deer bigger 'n that Impala you drive 'round in." Rick said, taking a swig of his beer. "It's a world of solitude out there. No roads. You can't get to it but by a sea-plane and you gotta land on the little lake…Takes a man to brave the ride down, since we get our fair share of turbulence out there. But what guy doesn't like a challenge, right? So what d'ya say?"

"Well Rick, that sounds…" Dean looked relatively uncomfortable and his voice faltered a little. Sam knew why. There was a war going on inside Dean's head. On the one side, Dean was petrified of planes and wouldn't voluntarily go in one probably even to save his own life…But on the other side Dean was loath to admit this fear in front of another hunter. Especially one who seemed to believe masculinity was somehow tied into turbulent plane-riding.

Sam quickly jumped in to save his brother from needing to respond. "It sounds fun, Rick. But we won't be going there if there aren't any roads." Rick raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why is that?" He asked, his curious tone tinted with just a hint of judgment. "Yeah Sam. Why is that?" Dean added, looking like he wanted to stab Sam with his glare. He clearly thought Sam was about to spill the beans.

"Because I'm deathly afraid of planes." Sam said with a shrug." I won't touch one with a ten foot pole, let alone fly in a dinky sea-plane through high turbulence." Sam politely smiled then and completely ignored Rick's disapproving grunt. "Would've thought you had more guts in you boy, being a hunter 'n all." Rick mumbled.

At that remark, Dean jumped in. "He's got plenty of guts Rick. He just knows he'd like to keep them where they belong, and not spread all over the floor of some Alaskan forest after the rust bucket he was flying in crashed." Dean took a swig of his own beer, leveling Rick with his patented 'don't you dare insult my little brother' look. It seemed that even when Sam was being scrutinized for a fear he didn't actually have, Dean wasn't about to let his little brother get ridiculed.

Rick wisely chose to let the topic drop, and instead got up to go purchase another beer.

When the other hunter was out of earshot, Dean turned to his younger brother and said, "Thanks for the save dude." Sam just nodded and smiled."No problem. I prefer to be the only one who gets to tease you about your fear of flying anyway." Sam added with a smirk.

Dean promptly punched Sam's arm, but inside he was honestly grateful to have a younger brother he could trust to respect his fears.

**Secondary Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Feed back in the form of reviews is greatly appreciated. Oh, and thanks again mb64 for all of your support. You are awesome, my friend. :D **


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